Redbeard: A Kidlock Story
by CeruleanPencils
Summary: Just a cute little short story about a boy and his dog. If you're sensitive to sad things you might want a tissue box. Rated K plus just because I want to be careful. Cover art by me.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Ooh yay, another Kidlock about Redbeard! I'm trying to make this align with the canon as much as I can, but we don't really know what happened in Sherlock's childhood too much, so I can't really say what's close and what's not. I'll give it my best shot.

EDIT: Having just watched S4 E3, I now know that this is not close to canon at all. Please ignore that, and just think of it as an AU. Thank you!

* * *

"Mum. Can I get a puppy?" William Sherlock Scott Holmes was four years old, and knew four hundred digits of Pi. One might expect him to want a graphing calculator, or a textbook for Christmas, but as much as William loved those sorts of things, they weren't what he really wanted for Christmas. The only thing he wanted was a puppy. (Well, two things. A puppy and a pirate ship. But he knew the pirate ship was unrealistic.) William and his mum were doing Christmas shopping. Christmas was only a few days away, and she had to get one more present for Mycroft. William loved walking down the sidewalk with his mum, he could look into all of the windows, and look at the advertisements to try to find a puppy. William wanted a big, soft, playful puppy, and he just saw one advertised by the local shelter in the window of daddy's favorite bowtie store. "Mummy! It's the perfect puppy! I just saw him in the shop! Please, oh pleeaaaaase can we get him? I've been ever so good!"

William's mum walked back to the window with him back to look at the puppy. The picture was adorable. Long, silky, red fur; enormous brown eyes; and he was only a few weeks old. "We'll see William," said William's mum, "Be a good boy until Christmas, and we'll see."

"I'll be a VERY good boy!" agreed William.

William's mum didn't really want a dog, but he had been a very good boy, and the child did need a friend. She decided to surprise him with the dog on Christmas, just to see her adorable child smile.

* * *

"Myc. Myyyyyc. It's Christmas. Get up. Myyyyyyyyyyyyyc!" William couldn't wait any longer. It was six in the morning. He had originally gotten up at four to open presents, then realized no one else was awake.

Mycroft never liked getting up early. The sun wasn't up, so why should he be up?

"Go back to sleep William. You're tired. You got up at exactly four-o-two, and then ran laps around your room. Afterwords you proceeded to make yet another wooden sword. I can see the splinters on your hands. Don't bother me until mum and dad tell you to." Mycroft turned over and fell back asleep.

"But I hear noises. From downstairs. Can we see if Santa Clause is down there?" Little William was adorable. His black, unruly hair was going every which way, and his eyes were the size of oranges. Mycroft had specially trained himself to become immune to his cuteness. "William, how many times have I told you, Santa Clause is not real. He's just a story parents made up to get free cookies."

"Fine. If you don't want to have du with me, I'll go down myself." William trudged down the stairs to the sitting room, where the Christmas tree was erected. Presents sat by the foot of the tree, waiting to be opened. William noticed one of the boxes had holes in it. The holes were large, about the size of golf balls, and William could just barely see a patch of red, sitting inside the box. He crawled over to the box, and stared intently at it. He figured there were five possible outcomes to the situation:

Mother and Father come downstairs and see that he is ready to open presents. They happily open presents with him. Mother and Father come downstairs and scold William for being out of bed so early. They open presents happily afterward. William opens the box and sees what's inside. His parents come down and happily open presents with him and don't care that he opened one without them. William opens the box and sees what's inside. His parents come down and scold him for opening presents without them. They happily open presents with him afterward. Mycroft comes down and sends William back to bed.

William was hoping that Option One was going to be reality. He knew he shouldn't open presents without mum and dad. So he waited. And waited.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! What are you doing?" William's mum shouted playfully, "What time we're you up this morning?"

"I don't know mummy," said William sleepily, jolting awake from his position under the tree, "Mycroft says I got up at four-o-two, but that can't be right. I think I got up much before that." Poor William had bags under his eyes, and could barely keep them open. "Can we open presents now?"

"Of course sweetie, as soon as Mycroft wakes up."

Mycroft came down a few minutes later. Since he wanted to earn some parent points, he let William open the first present. William immediately chose the big box with the holes. He examined the box carefully, to try to guess what was inside before he opened it. In the background, Mycroft was smirking. He already knew what was in the box, and it was quite obvious to him. William slowly lifted up the box lid for dramatic effect. Inside, there sat the adorable Irish Setter puppy advertised in the shop window.

"A puppy!" William shouted in excitement, "He's going to be called Pirate Redbeard, and we're going to be best friends forever!" William picked up his new best friend and held him on his lap. Then he walked upstairs to his room, forgetting about the rest of the presents.

"William?" his mother called, "Aren't you going to come do the rest of Christmas?"

"No Mum!" came the reply, "Redbeard and I have work to do! We're going to sail the seven seas!"

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed my first Kidlock. Please review!

-Bunny


	2. Chapter 2

AN: This chapter is basically going to sum up William/Sherlock's first year of school in a few paragraphs. Each paragraph or, 'sectioned off section,' of the chapter is going to be one specific day. I'm labeling them too, just to avoid confusion. (FYI, William is five years old this chapter.)

* * *

Day One

"But Mum! Why can't I being Redbeard to school with me?" William Holmes was getting ready for his first day of school. He already had many complaints. His lunch wasn't going to be very yummy; (He deduced that it was a plain pb&j sandwich and an apple. He hated apples.) he couldn't bring his sword, or dress up like a pirate; and Redbeard couldn't come too.

"Do you remember how mad Mrs. Wemberly was when Redbeard went into her lawn?"

"Oh, yes." William could remember the day very vividly. He had been scolded for almost a whole hour for letting his dog run loose.

"Well your teachers are probably going to be just as mad if you brought Redbeard to school. Would you like that?"

"Oh, no." William replied innocently.

"Then he has to stay here for the day. Don't worry, you can still play as much as you want when you get back."

"Fine. Bye Redbeard! Don't loot the ships for treasure without me!" William waved goodbye to his dog, then walked out the front door to greet Mycroft, who would be walking him to school. They walked together, Mycroft looking grim and William with a big goofy grin.

"Is school fun Mycroft?" William gazed up at his thirteen year old brother, awaiting the answer.

"It depends on your point of view. From an educational standpoint, no. The classes are easy and boring and you'll find yourself almost at the point of death many times throughout the day. But from a socialization standpoint, I guess. People like us tend to get bullied a lot. Just tell them all what their birthdays, favorite colors, lunch items and deepest darkest secrets are and you'll keep them at bay. It's very entertaining to watch them run away in fear." Mycroft glanced at William, wondering if he was even paying attention.

"Ok!" said William cheerfully. He skipped the rest of the way to school.

* * *

"Mycroft, I don't know why you said that school was boring, I loved it! Except for when I had to play with the other kids. Did you know that we're on a planet called, 'Earth,' and it revolves around the sun? Did you?" William had just arrived home from school, and was bursting with joy. Mycroft hadn't bothered to tell him anything that he hadn't deemed useful for life. Astronomy was one of those things.

"William, my dear brother," Mycroft put a hand on William's shoulder, "that information, however, 'neat,' it is, is not useful in anyway unless you plan on becoming an astronaut. Think carefully before you store it away forever in your memory."

"But how do I un-remember it?" William asked. He didn't want to get rid of memories.

"It's a skill that you'll acquire over time. I hope that you will be able to hone it well." Mycroft gazed at his annoying little brother.

William shrugged. "Whatever Myc. C'mon Redbeard! Let's go battle the evil pirates!"

* * *

Day Fifty-Two

"Hi! I'm Brian! What's your name?"

William was a shy boy. He wished he was reading, or playing alone with blocks. Instead he had to play with other kids in the playground.

"I'm William."

"Do you want to play with me?" The other kid, Brian, was red-headed and pudgy. William deduced that he had many other siblings, and mum was too busy to say anything about what he wore, (a neon green shirt with bright red shorts- on a brisk, rainy day,) that he was very excited about what he had brought for lunch, (Brian kept glancing at his lunchbox all day,) he was left handed, (grey pencil smudge on left hand,) and bad with numbers. (He had not once raised his hand during, 'counting time,' and didn't fill out his maths worksheet.)

"No thanks." William didn't even look up from his book.

"Are you reading a book?"

"Yeah...?"

William was reading at a level much higher than the average five year old. His favorite book at the moment was, 'The Chronicles of Narnia,' by C. S. Lewis. He'd stolen Mycroft's collector's edition 'all-seven-books-in-one' copy, and the other kids were starting to flock around him.

"What are you all looking at? I'm trying to read." Poor William was swarmed with questions:

"You're reading?! How do you read?"

"Is it magic?"

"Are you cheating? Did you just bring the book to show off?"

"I think William's a show off."

"Yeah! Why do you always know the answer in class?

"I think he's a wizard. William's cheating in school!"

"I am not! Stop bothering me!" William packed up his book and ran to the bathroom, locking himself in. He waited there until recess ended.

* * *

"Mycroft, why did the other kids think I was cheating?"

"They thought you were cheating because you're too clever for them William. Did you deduce them?"

"No."

"Do that next time."

"But why?"

"It'll keep them away."

"I don't want to hurt their feelings... But they're so annoying! Why are you looking at me like that? You're trying to chastise me for something, aren't you?"

"Don't try to be clever and use big words William. I'm the clever one." Mycroft scolded, "As for hurting their feelings, feelings are a burden. Just use logic. It's so much better than emotion."

"Fine. I'm going to take Redbeard to the field now. Come on boy!"

William loved taking Redbeard to the field. Mycroft hated being outside, so he could escape all of the criticism than his brother gave him. He and Redbeard would play pirates by the big tree in the middle of the field. There were miles and miles of open space to run forever. To escape the confines of life back at home. After hours of playing and running, they laid down in the grass and watched the clouds. "It's going to rain soon Redbeard. Mummy's going to get mad if we come home wet, but I don't care." Redbeard didn't respond, but he listened. Redbeard was the only person, (or dog,) William could talk to without being teased, scolded, or criticized. "I hope we could be friends forever Redbeard. When I grow up, I'm going to become a pirate, and take you with me on my ship. We'll have loads of fun, and I can make Mycroft walk the plank. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Redbeard wagged his tail in agreement. William hugged his best friend. "Thank you Redbeard! Let's get wet in the rain now, shall we?"

* * *

Last day of School

Because it was the last day of school, William's school teacher wanted the kids to have fun. He taught them, 'silly lessons,' as he liked to call them. He taught them how to make paper airplanes, how to write a story, and how to solve a mystery. William knew all of these things already, but he still found them fun. The last thing the teacher taught them about was names. "Did you know that each and every one of your names means something?" The kids oohed and ahhed, "I have a book here with name meanings in it. Raise your hand, and I'll call on you and tell you what your name means." He called on the little girl who raised her hand first. "Danielle. You're up! What's your full name?"

Danielle stood up, and recited her name. "My name is Danielle Alice Pemberly."

"Ah, that's a very lovely name." said the teacher, "It means that you're kind, lawful, and a loyal friend."

The kids oohed and ahhed again. Danielle beamed.

"Who wants to go next? William! You look like you've been very patient. What's your full name?"

William stood up shyly. "My name is William Sherlock Scott Holmes."

A kid snickered in the background. "That's a long name!"

"It's fine just the way it is." the teacher scolded, "William, that means you're organized, energetic, and always happy."

William sat down and tried to blend in as much as he could. He couldn't stop thinking about how not normal his name was, and how wrong the meanings were. It was too long. He had four names, but everyone else had three. He had to get rid of one.

* * *

"Mum, I've decided I'm going to get rid of William."

"Do what?" Mrs. Holmes dropped the plate she was washing into the sink, where it splashed water everywhere. "Oh no, look at the mess I've made. Sorry William, what were you saying?"

"I'm Sherlock now Mum. I'm not William. My name was too long. They laughed at me at school!" William pouted.

"But you can't change your name William!" his Mum said sweetly, "Your name is perfect just the way it is, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"But I like Sherlock better. It sounds clever, like Mycroft's name." William insisted, "I'm not going to be laughed at ever again."

Mum laughed. "Fine then, Sherlock Holmes. You're not William any more. What about you go play with Redbeard now? He's been waiting for you."

Sherlock took Redbeard to the field again. He felt different now, being Sherlock. But he liked it. A lot. "Redbeard, I'm not William anymore. I'm Sherlock." Sherlock said to his dog, "I guess it's not too important to tell you that, but I want to make sure everyone knows. You won't laugh at me, will you?" Redbeard wagged his tail. Sherlock took that as a yes. "You're such a good boy!" Sherlock hugged his dog. "Thank you Redbeard. I love you."

* * *

I know, the ending there was a bit cheesy, but at least he really does love his dog. :)

Thank you for reading! Please review.

-Bunny


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Ok, I can't remember how Vet's offices work. That's all I'm saying...

* * *

Sherlock Holmes was twelve years old. He knew five thousand digits of Pi, the password to Mycroft's computer, and the password to the Queen's computer as well. He had diagnosed one of his classmates with cancer when he was seven, and had gotten detention for it. His best friend was an old dog named Redbeard. Redbeard had been Sherlock's best friend since he was four, and was getting old. Sherlock and Redbeard used to be able to run for hours in the field near their house, but now poor Redbeard could barely walk around the house. Redbeard's coat used to be bright red and glossy, but his once magnificent color was fading, and really showing age. Sherlock didn't want to believe that his best friend was ancient, but it was hard to ignore the truth.

Sherlock and Mycroft were in the sitting room; Sherlock thinking, and Mycroft reading. Summer vacation bored them to death, and Mum and Dad were on a vacation, leaving Mycroft to watch after Sherlock.

"That dog of yours should be living in a retirement home Sherlock." Mycroft teased, "It can barely walk. He's practically falling apart."

"Redbeard's not falling apart!" Sherlock moaned, "He's just getting old! He'll still live for a long time though. As long as he doesn't injure himself, he'll presumably live for at least a few more years. He's a tough dog. Aren't you boy?" Sherlock scratched Redbeard's head, while Redbeard licked his hand.

"All dogs die Sherlock." Mycroft goaded, "Your's isn't going to last much longer."

"Don't say things like that!" Sherlock shouted, "Redbeard's fine! Come on boy, let's go read upstairs." Sherlock edged up the stairs, coaxing Redbeard along. "Come on Redbeard, that's a good boy. You can do it!" Redbeard crawled up the stairs at an agonizingly slow pace. Mycroft gave Sherlock an, 'I told you so!' look, just as Redbeard reached the top of the stairs. Sherlock stuck his tongue out at Mycroft. He and Redbeard went into Sherlock's room.

Sherlock's room was not a normal child's bedroom. There were sticky notes everywhere, reminding him about every little thing, books scattered about the floor, and math and science posters covering the walls. Sherlock chose a book, and promptly flopped down on his bed to read it. Papers flew up into the air, then landed back down again. Redbeard laid next to Sherlock in his dog bed- the only place where there weren't any books or papers- and fell asleep.

Sherlock read his book to the very end, all eight thousand one hundred and twenty-three pages of it. Hours had passed, but it was still light outside. Sherlock looked at his watch, and saw it was half-past four in the afternoon. It had been six hours since he'd stuck out his tongue at Mycroft. "Are you hungry Redbeard?" Sherlock asked his dog, "Do you think Mycroft'll make us some lunch? I doubt it. Redbeard?" Redbeard wasn't moving. He stayed asleep. Sherlock tired to wake him. He gently pet the dog. "Come on boy, wake up! Don't be stubborn." Redbeard still wasn't waking. Sherlock was worrying. "Redbeard! Wake up! Are you alright? Redbeard!" Sherlock shook his dog, trying to wake him up. "Mycroft! Come quick! Something's wrong with Redbeard!"

* * *

Sherlock waited for a long time. The car ride was agonizing, and waiting at the Vet's was even more agonizing. He paced the waiting room, ignoring people's stares. Redbeard had been taken in for surgery, and Mycroft thought it would be best for him to wait outside. Mycroft came out of the operation room, showing no emotion.

"Sherlock," he said emotionlessly, "Redbeard's going to stay here for a while. But he's going to be fine. Mum and Dad called, they send their deepest condolences."

"So...Redbeard isn't dying?" Sherlock asked, feeling relieved.

"He's fine." Mycroft sighed, with an air of annoyance. He hated repeating himself. "It's late Sherlock. Redbeard's staying here for a little bit, then we'll bring him home, completely well, ok?"

"Ok." Sherlock mumbled. Mycroft took him by the arm and led him out of the building. He received sympathetic looks from everyone he walked past, as if they knew something he didn't. Together, the Holmes brothers left the Vet's office for home. Once they arrived, Sherlock then went up to his room to be alone. He already missed Redbeard. He stared for a long time at Redbeard's empty bed, assuring to himself that he'd be home soon, happy and healthy. His brother wouldn't lie to him. No, Sherlock truly felt that Redbeard was still at the Pet Hospital, doing just fine. Mycroft reassured him of this on the way home. Little did he know that poor Redbeard had just taken his last breath only seconds earlier. As Sherlock was falling asleep that night Mycroft received the phone call. He then wondered how he would ever tell Sherlock the horrible news.

* * *

I know, it was short, and not too sad. But if I'd have made it any sadder, you'd be bawling your eyes out for poor Sherlock. Thanks for reading! Please review. :)

-Bunny


	4. Chapter 4

Mycroft made his decision. He was going to lie to Sherlock. The poor boy was on the verge of depression, and couldn't take any more sadness in his life. He'd made up a story about the dog already. When Sherlock came down for breakfast that morning, Mycroft told him the lie. "Sherlock, Redbeard's doctor called and said that Redbeard's ok, but that he's too weak to live here with us. He's going to live in a special home for dogs like him, where he'll be happy."

Sherlock dropped his piece of toast. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Mycroft sighed, "Hurray, you deduced me again."

"You tried to lie to me! You thought I couldn't take it!" Sherlock fumed, "Redbeard's been dead for days now, hasn't he? Why did you do this to me?" Sherlock glared at Mycroft, he hated him. His heart was pounding, and he was holding back tears.

"Don't try to be smart Sherlock. If I had told you the truth, you would have gone up to your room to cry yourself to death. That dog was the only thing that kept you happy. Lying to you was the only way to spare your mind."

Tears started streaming down Sherlock's face. "I don't care! I will never forgive you for this, ever!" Sherlock ran up the stairs to his room and fell face first onto his bed. Mycroft could hear him sobbing for hours. Once it went quiet Mycroft went upstairs to check on him. Sherlock was asleep. His face was covered in tears, and the pillow was wet. Mycroft sat on the bed, and lightly stroked Sherlock's head. His poor little brother couldn't cope with the loss of his best friend. Petting him was the only way Mycroft could think to comfort Sherlock.

"Remember dear brother," Mycroft articulated, "caring, is not an advantage. Rather, it is the opposite. Remember this as you journey through life. You're going to need it."

With that Mycroft walked out the door, leaving Sherlock to sleep. The empty pet stayed in Sherlock's bedroom for many years as a reminder that something was missing, and that caring was a disadvantage.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

"Sherlock! I've brought you something!" John came home to find Sherlock sitting in his chair, clearly lost in thought.

"What is it? If it's any kind of food, plant, love-note, or other paraphernalia, please save me the trouble of throwing it out the window." Sherlock wasn't a big lover of gifts.

John sighed. "You won't want to throw this out the window." He handed Sherlock a bundle of blankets containing a ball of fluff. "Mycroft said you liked dogs."

Sherlock stared at the puppy. It was an Irish Setter, just like Redbeard. He wasn't sure whether to start cuddling it like a baby, or yelling at John for trying to make him emotional.

"Hm."

"Don't stick it in the microwave like you did to that mouse."

Sherlock wasn't paying attention. He cuddled the little dog, and held it close. "Hello Redbeard Two. Do you hate Mycroft too? Yes, yes you do. Everyone hates Mycroft."

"I...don't hate Mycroft...?" squeaked John.

"Of course you hate him," Sherlock scolded, "You just don't know it yet."

He held the puppy up to John's face.

"This adorable ball of fur hates Mycroft and hasn't even met him yet. You can't argue with that." Sherlock took his puppy to the kitchen. "Would you like a torched eye to eat? They're not as bad as you might think. You can be my bloodhound now, it'll be great, seeing as how Anderson is too idiotic to tell blood from red paint."

John watched in amazement as Sherlock actually showed genuine care for an actual living thing. "Who was Redbeard One?"

Sherlock didn't answer. He and Redbeard Two had work to do. And eyeballs to torch.

* * *

Sherlock hated phone calls with his brother. Especially when he tried to make Sherlock prove that he was right.

"I see you still haven't chosen a goldfish."

"I see you've gotten a dog."

"Jealous?"

"Are you sure this won't be bad for you? All dogs die Sherlock."

"Yes, but this time no one will lie to me about his death."

"And if they do...?"

Silence.

"You've never been one for sentiment. What changed?"

Silence.

"Little Brother, don't tell me you're forming an attachment. I'll be watch-"

"Goodbye Mycroft."

Sherlock hung up the phone. He could never forgive Mycroft for lying to him about Redbeard. Even though he was trying to make up for it by telling John exactly what kind of dog to get him, Mycroft was still an idiot, and would always be one. It was his fault Redbeard was dead, and he could never make the pain go away.

* * *

Meanwhile...

* * *

"Sir, why are we at a pet store?"

"I'll only be a moment."

A few minutes later, Mycroft came out of the pet store holding a goldfish in a bag. "Do you like it? I'm going to name it either, 'Cake,' or, 'Umbrella.'"

"Good for you Sir."

* * *

Wasn't it the conclusion all you fangirls have been waiting for? Mycroft and his goldfish. :)

Thanks for reading! Please review.

-Bunny


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